Harry Potter and Adventures in Lordship
by vonsinhaus
Summary: Response to the Last Pendragon's "Lord Potter" challenge. At Harry's "infractionary hearing" he grows a backbone and learns a little something about his family. New friends, old enemies, enemies becoming friends and more! Harry/Susan, Nev/Hannah
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own, in any form, shape or fashion, Harry Potter, Hogwarts, or any other of Ms. Rowling's marvelous works. If I did, I would be rich, and Ron would not be married to Hermione. Injustice! This work of fiction is an answer to Pendragon's Lord Potter story challenge. Author's Note: Much of this chapter was drawn from HPOotP chapter 8: The Hearing pp 137-151 (US paperback) to get an accurate representation of the trial. My wife and I are working on this in tandem; if anyone is interested in acting as a beta, please contact me.

Harry Potter and Adventures in Lordship

Chapter One: Susan

Susan squirmed in the hard guest seat towards the back of the Wizengamot. Aunt Amelia hadn't wanted her to come today.

"_This is too personal for you. I don't want you getting upset during the trial and causing a scene," said Amelia._

"_How am I supposed to learn self-discipline if I'm never allowed in a position that's taxing? I have to know what they are going to say about Harry! This is my life, my future we're talking about here, and I've got to know how Harry is going to behave before a group of his peers. Besides, if he's found guilty we'll need to start the dissolution papers."_

And so Susan had won her place in the back of the court. She shifted again, waiting impatiently for Harry to arrive. She knew Fudge had moved up the time of the trial trying to catch Harry and Professor Dumbledore off-balance, and she found it smacking of underhandedness. _That cad. Besides having poor Harry before the whole Wizengamot over a little under-age magic, when it usually don't rate more than a tribunal hearing! Hope old Dumble's heard about it and manages to get down here fast._

"Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, it is now eight am, and Mr. Potter is officially late for his hearing regarding the usage of underage magic and breaking the Statue of Secrecy. An owl was sent to Mr. Potter to let him know of the change in time and location of the hearing," Cornelius Fudge announced pompously.

_Right, I'm sure you sent the owl five minutes ago, you old rat._

Murmuring and whispered conversation broke out among the members of the Wizengamot. Susan shifted again in her chair, smoothed her hair, straightened her robes, looked at her watch. Time killing. _Ah, it's still only been a minute past Fudge announced the time and that Harry's late._ Just as Susan was about to reach into her handbag and retrieve a nail file, the door into the room burst open, and a distressed Harry Potter was shoved into the room by—was that Arthur Weasley?

"You're late, Mr. Potter," Fudge announced in a booming voice.

"I, ah, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't realize that the time and place had changed," Harry replied, licking his lips.

"That is no fault of the Wizengamot. An owl was sent this morning to notify you. Sit."

Susan leaned forward, watching apprehensively as Harry approached the Accused's Chair. Harry hesitated for a moment, eyeing the heavy chains around the chair nervously, then sat gingerly on the edge of the seat. Susan let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding as the chains clinked and rattled, then silenced. Susan glanced up at her aunt, sitting to the left of Fudge. Amelia's focus was solely on Harry, so Susan turned her gaze back to him, also.

"Very well, the accused being present- finally- let us begin…."

As Fudge began the long-winded preliminaries of the hearing, Susan sat back in her chair, turning her gaze from Harry—he wasn't doing any tricks, she couldn't see why Aunt Amelia was starting at him so intently—and instead began studying the members of the Wizengamot. _Minister Fudge, of course, leading the hearing, and that Umbridge woman, ugh, can't stand her; there's Mr. Ogden, he's a nice man; oh, and Percy Weasley, that speccy git, I can't believe how he's treating his family, and there's Mrs…_

"- Bryan Dumbledore, witness for the defense." Susan's head jerked back towards Harry, cutting off her train of thought. Dumbledore strode serenely across the room, stopping by Harry.

_He always manages to look so calm! And Fudge looks like he's about to have kittens. This should prove interesting after all._ Susan's mouth quirked into a smirking grin, as she settled in to watch the show.

"Ah, Headmaster Dumbledore- er, it's so good to see that, ah, you got that message we sent to you. Er, the one about the hearing—and, and, the time change," Fudge stuttered out.

"I seem to have missed that message entirely," Dumbledore cut off Fudge's stammering smoothly. "How fortunate that due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early."

Fudge grimaced. "Well—yes, ah, I suppose we'll need another chair. Weasley— ?"

"Not to worry, Cornelius," said Dumbledore pleasantly, as drew out his wand and conjured himself a plump armchair. _Wish I had a plushy armchair, _thought Susan wistfully. Dumbledore sat down, and looked up at Fudge and the rest of the Wizengamot with polite interest. Most of the group was still whispering and fidgeting.

"Yes, ah, yes, well then." Fudge began shuffling his notes, and the rest of the Wizengamot began to settle down. "The charges. Yes." He drew out a piece of parchment, and began to read it carefully. "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowing, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy." Here Fudge drew in a great breath, and looked down at Harry. Harry's face was livid red, his eyes narrow and angry.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surry?" Fudge asked, peering over his parchment.

"Yes," Harry said reasonably.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, but –"

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" asked Fudge.

"Well, yes," replied Harry, "but you see—"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?" Fudge demanded.

"Now listen here, Fudge!" Harry snapped. "I am trying to answer your questions, but you keep cutting me off! Three years ago I got a warning from the Ministry, but a house-elf was the one doing the magic. And I conjured a Patronus on August second outside of school and before a Muggle—a Muggle that is my cousin and therefore knows that I am a wizard, I might add—because there was a ruddy DEMENTOR right there, getting ready to SUCK OUT HIS SOUL. Or does the Ministry approve the removal of Muggles' souls?" Harry ended his tirade, face red and breathing heavily. "I would gladly submit to a trial by Veritaserum if it would assure the Wizengamot of my truthfulness on EVERYTHING, Minister Fudge. And I do mean everything."

"I don't know that is entirely necessary, Mr. Potter," Fudge replied quickly. "Veritaserum is rather hard on Ministry funds."

"Minister Fudge, I would insist that the council be assured of my truthfulness; I will pay out of my own funds the expense of the Veritaserum," Harry countered smoothly.

Susan about fell out of her chair. _Either Fudge will press on to the testimony of a witness, or allow the Veritaserum. Last year he was chomping at the bit to get some of that down Harry's throat. If he does it now, he might not like what he hears. And offering to pay for it! Well played, Harry. There might be hope for you yet._

"This is preposterous! We can't let a boy march in here and tell us how to run the Wizengamot! Sit down, Potter, and let this hearing get on with," Fudge boomed, his ears turning red.

Amelia Bones looked at Fudge, then at Harry, and then at Fudge again. "Mr. Potter, if you insist on Veritaserum, I feel bound to tell you that sometimes one will tell something that they would otherwise keep to themselves."

"Madame Bones, I only want to clear my name. I would gladly pay the cost and take my chances rather than let my name be drug through muck. Besides, when one is willing to tell the truth, two drops will force the drinker to wholly and truthfully answer any questions. Only when three drops are giving will one unwitting spill more private thoughts and secrets." Harry looked over the Wizengamot, measuring each member. Fudge sputtered, enraged.

"Very well. Scribe, let it be noted that the Accused wishes to be tested with Veritaserum. Let it be brought and measured before the whole court so that we may see truth and justice done," Amelia Bones intoned. Percy scribbled furiously on his parchment, and then summoned an elf. "Please fetch me a vial of Veritaserum."

The elf nodded and popped out of the room. A moment later the elf returned, bearing a vial of clear liquid. Amelia took the vial and looked at Harry.

"Come here, Mr. Potter."

Harry stood and walked over to Amelia.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, understand that you are being given Veritaserum to testify to your truthfulness before the Wizengamot?"

"I understand, Madam Bones."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully, and carefully dropped two drops of the shimmering liquid on Harry's tongue. Harry shuddered, and his eyes unfocused and refocused.

"Mr. Potter, we will resume the line of questioning now. You said you conjured a Patronus on the second of August because there was a Dementor?" Amelia questioned.

"No, there were two Dementors. Dudley couldn't see them, but I could. He fell down, and the Dementors closed around him; they were going to Kiss him. Even though it was August, it felt like January."

"And you conjured a full fledged Patronus? Not just a puff of smoke?" Amelia looked skeptical.

"Yes ma'am. It's a stag. Would you like me to demonstrate?" Harry asked cheekily. Amelia's look changed from skeptical to approving.

Susan watched the questioning avidly; she noticed several members of the Wizengamot had amazed looks on their faces, while others looked distinctly displeased. A few of them were scribbling on parchment surreptitiously, and passing notes to their neighbors.

"No, thank you. I must say, that's impressive for a fourth year Hogwart's student."

"Well, I found it prudent to become proficient the year that they were guarding the school. I react badly to them, and had a few run-ins while they were on the grounds. Professor Lupin taught me how to cast the charm."

"I see. Now, were you responsible three years ago for the hovering charm at Four Privet Drive?"

"No ma'am. A house-elf named Dobby cast that charm."

"Very well. Was the elf from a friend of yours?"

"Most assuredly not. Dobby thought it best that I not return to Hogwarts that year. His old master didn't like me that much. He was afraid I would get hurt." Harry smirked.

"I fail to see how this is relevant to this case, Madame Bones!" shouted Fudge.

"Only going back to gather my previous truthfulness when you had me painted guilty, Minister Fudge," Harry smarted. "After all, you are the one who introduced this line of questioning."

"He's quite right, Cornelius. And you'll note that the Ministry Sneakscope hasn't gone off even once. He's telling the truth. You've judged this young man harshly and unfairly." Dumbledore stood up from his chair. "Or would you rather we gather the other witnesses for the Defense? I could summon the house-elf in a moment, and I have a witness to the August second attack on Mr. Potter waiting outside."

"No, no, Dumbledore, that's quite alright." Fudge couldn't say it fast enough. "I suppose now would be the appropriate time to vote for Mr. Potter's guilt or innocence." Fudge sighed, but Susan could see the toad-like witch, Umbridge, fuming, her mouth tight-lipped. _Wonder what's got her knickers in a bunch?_

"Would all those finding Harry James Potter guilty of underage magic and breaking the Statute of Secrecy please raise their hands?" A scant dozen of the Wizengamot raised their hands. _Fudge, Umbridge, McNair, the Malfoy vote, Crabbe, the Goyle vote; all the others voting are in Malfoy's pocketbook. Of course they'd vote guilty._ Susan snorted indignantly.

"Duly noted. Would all those in favour of acquitting Mr. Potter of these charges please raise their hand?" Fudge's voice held a note of disappointment. The rest of the Wizengamot raised their hands. Harry, a cheeky grin on his face, raised his hand, too.

"Mr. Potter, I regret to inform you that, as the defendant of this trial, you are not allowed your family's Wizengamot seat vote."Amelia frowned.

"My WHAT?" Harry asked, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hair line.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and Adventures in Lordship

The same disclaimer from chapter one still applies: I do not own, nor receive any revenues from Harry Potter or this work. Also, the following chapters will be less likely to lift sections from the cannon novels.

Chapter Two: Harry

"My WHAT?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raising into his hairline.

"Your vote, Mr. Potter." Madame Bones sighed. "Any time a member of the Wizengamot, or a family member of a House seat on the Wizengamot, is a defendant in a trial, that House may not vote. That way there is no conflict of interests. As the defendant at this disciplinary hearing, House Potter's vote is rescinded for this trial."

"What do you mean, 'family seat'? I thought the Wizengamot council was elected. And House Potter?" Harry turned towards Dumbledore. "I've never been told ANYTHING about House Potter." _Evasion and omission is just as bad a lying. Why am I always the last to know anything about my family?_

"This is a highly unusual time, Lord Potter," an annoyed voice from the back of the chamber interrupted Harry's tirade. "It is not the purpose of the Wizengamot to fill in the rather vast gaps in your education. Madame Bones, I move that we finalize the vote on Harry Potter's disciplinary hearing and then adjourn the council. Some of us haven't had breakfast yet."

"Very well, Mr. Greengrass. Would all those in favor of Mr. Potter's innocence please vote again—not you, though, Mr. Potter."

Harry watched avidly while more than half of the Wizengamot voted in favor of his acquittal. _Yes! Freedom! Hogwarts! My wand!_ Elated and smiling, Harry stood.

"Mr. Potter, the Wizengamot finds you innocent of all charges. Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, this trial is officially closed. We are adjourned." Madame Bones nodded towards Harry, and the rest of the Wizengamot began filing towards the doors.

"Professor Dumbledore, this is fantastic!" Harry turned towards his mentor, only to find him gone. _I wish I could get him to TELL me something about what's going on. I feel like I'm missing something really important. _Harry sighed and leaned against the Accused's Chair, watching the Wizengamot members file out of the room.

"Mr. Potter." Harry swung around, rattling the chains at his feet, to see Madame Bones to his left.

"Ah, um, yes, Madame Bones?" _Is there something else? Oh no. I'm still going to get expelled from Hogwarts. _Harry swallowed nervously and tried to smile pleasantly.

"Mr. Potter, I have to ask you: what do you know?"

"What do I know?" Harry repeated. "Well, compared to Hermione, not much. I'm sorry, Madame Bones."

"That's not what I meant, Harry. I realize that you grew up with Muggles, and perhaps you don't understand all the nuances of Wizarding culture, but surely Dumbledore has explained some of these things to you. Important things, such as your parents' will." Madame Bones raised the eyebrow above her monocle.

"Well, no, he hasn't. They do have a will, then? I suspected they did; so did Hermione. She said that if they hadn't a will, I might not have my vault; something about dying interstate? Of course, she said Wizarding law might be different from Muggle law, so I'm not really sure," Harry said with a shrug.

"It's 'intestate' and it as the only child of the Potters, you would have received all the property anyway." Madame Bones answered. "You really don't know anything about what inheriting the Potter estate really entails, do you? Dumbledore hasn't told you **anything.**" Madame Bones frowned.

"Sure he has! He's told me the names of my father's friends! And I know-"

"Not half of what you are entitled to, my boy," she interrupted. "I suppose the Weasleys haven't been able to tell you anything, either?"

"Um, I'm afraid not." Harry wrinkled his brow, and turned towards the door. Most of the Wizengamot was gone, and he could see Mr. Weasley standing at the door, waiting to hear how the trial had gone. "Maybe Mr. Weasley can. Mr. Weasley!" Harry called, waving to his almost-guardian.

Arthur Weasley rapidly approached Harry and Madame Bones, a look of concern on his face. "Oh, dear, Amelia, did something go badly? You know that Harry's a good boy, just doing what he felt was right…"

"Oh, Arthur, calm down! Everything went fine." Madame Bones looked back and forth between Mr. Weasley and Harry. "It just seemed that Harry didn't know nearly as much about the procedures of the Wizengamot as the Heir to the Potter Estate should. His education about such things is woefully deficient."

_She knows something, something that I should know. Something that's mine by right, I can feel it. Something that was tied to my parents._ Harry suddenly understood Hermione's incessant thirst for knowledge. Harry looked back and forth between the two adults, who were looking at each other and him. _Deadlocked!_

"Well, now, Amelia, I don't-"

"Tell me everything you know, Madame Bones." Harry interrupted. "I'm sick and tired of people treating me like a painfully slow child. I'm fifteen now, and deserve to know what's going on with my life!" Madame Bones smirked, and Mr. Weasley looked concerned. "I promise I'll be careful, Mr. Weasley. And I'll come back to the Burrow tonight, if you'll still have me."

"Of course we'll still have you, Harry! You're just about part of the family. Besides, Molly would have my head if I lost you. Just be good, eh?" Mr. Weasley reached over and shook hands with Madame Bones. "I'll leave him with you then, Amelia." Mr. Weasley patted harry on the shoulder, and then left the trial room, probably heading back to his office. _I sure hope he doesn't have to deal with anymore exploding toilets today._

"Thank you, Arthur. I'll Floo him back to the Burrow this evening, then," she replied approvingly. "Now, Harry, we'll have to go to Gringotts, come along. You do have your key, don't you?"

"Uh, yes ma'am." Madame Bones glanced around the room once more, ask if making sure everyone had left, then turned smartly on her heel and led Harry out of the room.

"Good. We'll be needing that today. Now, Harry, I don't know what you know about muggle inheritance laws and such, but I just want to tell you that Wizarding laws tend towards the archaic. Not that that's always a bad thing; sometimes that can work in one's favour." Harry nodded. "Your parents did leave a will, naming you as their heir and leaving quite a list of potential guardians. After all, we were at war, and they were afraid for you and wanted you to have the best care from loving friends should anything happened to them. I know this because I was one of those potential guardians and one of their witnesses. Dumbledore was the executor of their will; he should have been telling you all these things for these last few years." Amelia sighed, and continued to lead Harry out of the Ministry of Magic and towards Diagon Alley.

"So you mean I WASN'T supposed to go live with the Dursleys and I got sent there anyway?" asked Harry, bug-eyed.

Madame Bones frowned again. "I'm afraid so, Harry. There was a lot going on, I know. Perhaps Dumbledore felt it would be best for you to grow up away from all the hubbub of the Wizarding world. Still, when you joined us at age eleven, there were things that Dumbledore should have been teaching you, or finding others to teach you. The Potter family is an old family, and has ties to other old families whose names have died out. As such, there are certain responsibilities that you must tend to; Dumbledore should have told you, but he apparently hasn't, or you would not have such a hard time today for your trial—a trial that should have only been a hearing, mind you. What Fudge is up to, I'll never figure out." She shook her head angrily, leading Harry past all the shops that dotted the street on the way to the Wizarding bank.

"Does this mean that Dumbl—that someone is controlling my accounts and stuff?" Harry asked.

"Yes. As your executor and, apparently, self-appointed guardian, Dumbledore can 'deal' with a few things that you can't just yet. Harry, have you ever heard of 'emancipation' before?"

"Isn't that what Hermione wanted to do to all the house elves? Free them?"

"Well, something like that. There's a muggle law called 'emancipation of a minor' which basically means that, even though you are below the age of majority, you are considered an adult, and have the rights—and responsibilities—as such. There is a similar, though archaic Wizarding variant sometimes used when an older minor is left as the sole heir of a Wizarding line who feels that his guardian is misappropriating funds or the instructions set out for the minor is his or her parents' will. Now, mind, I'm not trying to set you against Dumbledore; he's a great wizard. He's just gotten very old, and tends to look at the whole picture. In such, he tends to miss out on a great many details."

Harry and Madame Bones stepped inside of Gringotts. Harry fished around in his pocket for his vault key as they approached a desk.

"How may I help you today?" wheezed the goblin.

"I need to aquire the proper paperwork for Mr. Harry J. Potter's claim of emancipation and right to the Potter-Peverell family vault," Madame Bones coolly demanded.

The goblin raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And this is Mr. Potter? Do you have your key?"

Harry raised his key. "I am, and I do. I want that paperwork."

The goblin smirked. "Very well. I'll fetch it and be right back."

Harry looked over at Madame Bones. "All this paperwork is going to be worse than writing for History of Magic, isn't it?"

Madame Bones nodded sadly. "I hope your penmanship is good. The goblins are sticklers for that sort of thing." Harry looked at her worriedly, and she cracked a grin. "Ok, not really, but it's much better if all the paperwork is easy to read."

Just then the goblin returned with a rather impressive stack of parchment. "Here you go. There is a table over there-" the goblin indicated a table towards their left "-and I hope you have a very pleasant afternoon."

Madame Bones thanked him and took the parchments. _This is going to be worse than writing for History of Magic AND potions._ Harry groaned. "I hate writing."

"Well, I'll be here to help you and answer any questions. However, this must all be in your own hand." She handed him a quill. "This is a special quill for people applying for such things. It's similar to the quills used at Hogwarts for your exams; you can't write lies with it, and you can't pretend to be someone else when paperwork is being done. So I can't do it for you."

Several hours later, and with more than a few ink blotches on his hands and shirt, Harry turned his paperwork in to the Head Banking Goblin. He looked the paperwork over, and then turned to Harry. "There is just one more thing; a bit of a test. I do hope you are who you say you are, or this could get rather…messy." The goblin went into his office, and returned several minutes later with a fair-sized signet ring set with a carefully carved onyx. "This ring is the key to the vault. It's the signet of the Potter-Peverell line. It's attuned to that family; if you're not who you say you are, the ring will know."

It seemed to Harry that time almost froze. It took him years to reach over to the goblin and take the ring, decades to draw it back to himself, and a century to slide it onto his own finger. Then he took a breath, and time returned to normal. _I'm not exploded._

The goblin grinned wryly. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You are who you say you are. Please go to the tunnels, there you may go to vault number eighty-two. That ring will act as a key and open the vault for you."

Harry got to enjoy a hair-raising right with Madame Bones, who seemed much less upset about it than Hagrid did. "Vault number eighty-two!" cried the conductor goblin as they arrived.

Harry opened the vault and looked inside.

_Oh, wow. This is going to take a while. I hope Hermione needs a new project._


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and Adventures in Lordship

The same disclaimer from chapter one still applies: I do not own, nor receive any revenues from Harry Potter or this work. Also, the following chapters will be less likely to lift sections from the cannon novels.

And because I forgot in chapter 1, here is the link for the challenge: .net/s/4554155/1/Lord_Potters_Lament

* * *

Chapter Three: Hermione

"…and there are boxes and boxes of things, and more shelves full of books than are even in the Hogwarts library! I'm pretty sure I even saw some really old armor," exclaimed Harry.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "So **that's** why we all had to rush back over to the Burrow. You and Mr. Weasley couldn't tell her we're staying at Grimmauld Place."

"Yeah, I meant to say 'Grimmauld Place' but I said 'the Burrow' instead. Then I figured it must be the Secret Keeper magic." Harry paused thoughtfully. "Even Mr. Weasley looked confused and worried. I guess Madame Bones isn't in the Order? Wasn't some of her family Order in the last war? I think we should let her in on the secret. She could be a really valuable ally!" Harry exclaimed.

Ron snorted, "Yeah, you'd hate to alienate any of your valuable allies, eh, Lord Potter?"

"What's that supposed to mean, Ron?" Harry narrowed his eyes a little at his friend.

"What do you think it's supposed to mean! You…you….you! First you're the Boy Who Lived, and next you're rich, and then you go and win the Triwizard Tournament, and now you're bloody Lord Potter!" Ron shouted. "You've got everything; when we go back to Hogwarts this fall I'm sure the girls will just be throwing themselves at you." Ron threw down the papers he had been holding for Hermione and stormed out of the room he and Harry had shared the night before.

Harry, open-mouthed, watched Ron leave. "But…I don't _want_ all that," he whispered.

Hermione felt her heart rip. _Why do they always fight like that? Ron, why do you always jump to conclusions like that? Harry's supposed to be your best friend!_ With a last glare at the door Ron had slammed shut, Hermione dropped all the books and papers she had been sorting through, and rushed over to hug Harry.

"I know you don't want all that, Harry! I believed you last year, and I believe you now." Hermione forcefully declared. "Ron will come around eventually…you know how he gets sometimes. Daft. He'll come around."

Harry hugged her back. "Yeah. Eventually," he sighed. "So, what do you know about the Peverell family?" He let go of Hermione and leaned against the headboard of his bed, propping his feet up in Hermione's lap.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Never heard of the Perevells. You know what this means, right?" She grinned.

"Yeah," Harry said glumly. "More research."

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione threw a wadded piece of parchment at Harry's head.

"Ow! Hey! Hey, I was only joking! I love research, really! It's my new favorite hobby!" The two teenagers fell back onto the mattress, laughing.

"Harry, if you really want help in this, I promise to help you all that I can. Maybe you should write to Neville; his grandmother is old-school Pureblood, I'm sure he knows plenty about what's proper Wizarding customs. With his help and my comprehensive knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System, we'll have your private library shipshape in no time, and you on your way to being," Hermione snorted, "a proper Wizarding Lord."

Harry frowned and tossed the parchment wad back at Hermione. "Don't turn all Ronnie-kins on me, Hermione! I didn't ask for this, and if I'm going to have to-"

"If you're going to have to be a sodding Lord, you'll be a proper one, and try to fix all this mess that Fudge and his ilk have made." _I know you will._ Hermione grinned and sat up. "Come on, we'd better get downstairs for dinner before Mrs. Weasley has kittens."

"Alright. You'll come with me tomorrow to the vault and help me start sorting? We'll have to spend most of the day…" Harry started rambling as the two friends headed down to join everyone else for dinner.

* * *

Sorry it's a short chapter; I wanted to add more, but it just felt done! Hopefully the next chapter will be longer. I've been trying to find a way to make it longer for a while, but nothing feels right.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and Adventures in Lordship

The same disclaimer from chapter one still applies: I do not own, nor receive any revenues from Harry Potter or this work. Also, the following chapters should not lift anything, really, directly from the novels, except Ron's overuse of the words, "bloody brilliant." (Or was that a movie thing?) Please read, enjoy, and review!

Chapter Four: Neville

Neville was overlooking his plans for renovating the Longbottom family greenhouse when he heard the soft hoot of an owl. "Hey there, Hedwig," he said softly. "What are you doing all the way out here?" He held out his arm so Hedwig could perch there while he removed the letter from her leg. "How's Harry, then? Staying out of trouble, is he?" Hedwig hooted at Neville indignantly. "Not your job to keep up with him, eh? Hermione's got more than her fair handful there, I'd say. Go on up to the rook if you want, there's plenty of food and you can rest; I'll have a letter back for him later."

Hedwig hooted again, gratefully this time, and flew off to the rook that housed the other messenger birds of the Longbottom family. Neville unrolled the parchment, and began walking towards the main house as he read. _Oh, boy, I can't wait for Gran to get a gander at this!_

Neville found his Gran, the illustrious and formidable Augusta Longbottom, sitting in her parlour drinking a cup of tea. A small stack of books were beside her chair on the table to her left, and an much larger pile of letters, papers, notes, and invitations were on the table to her right. Even though the door stood open, Neville hesitated at the entryway, and knocked on the doorjamb, waiting for acknowledgment and permission to enter. Gran glanced up from the letter she was reading, looking over her spectacles at Neville.

"Yes, Neville?"

"May I come in, Gran?" For some reason, Neville always found himself overly formal with her, as if afraid of making a misstep; he hated when she looked disappointed in him.

"Of course, lad; have a seat," she said, nodding towards the wingback chair on her left.

Neville slipped into the room, trying to maintain an air of calm; Gran hated it when he scurried, she said. He sat in the chair. Gran let the parchment rest on her lap and looked at him expectantly. Neville began to fidget.

"Well, out with it, my boy! Has something happened? You didn't fail transfiguration, did you?" she asked.

"No, no Gran, it's nothing like that, not at all." Neville quickly replied. He hadn't _failed_ transfiguration, but that was neither here nor there. He swallowed, "I've gotten a letter from Harry, just now."

"Harry Potter!" she exclaimed. "Why, Neville, that's delightful! I've been waiting for you to strike up a friendship with him. James and your father worked together, and Lily and your mother were such good friends." Gran smiled softly, something Neville rarely saw. "Those two always expected their boys to be mates. Why, they were together so much, and had the strangest cravings, sending James and Frank all over creation looking for things."

Neville looked up at his Gran, shocked. "I….I didn't know. Harry's always seemed, I dunno, so in place with Ron." Neville shrugged. "I mean, sometimes us lads joke around together, but he and Ron and Hermione….they seem so complete. It's like watching those twin Weasleys. They don't need anyone else."

"Well, then, why did he write you?"

"He said he needed someone who knew how Wizarding politics worked. Why doesn't he just talk to Mr. Weasley?"

"Now, Neville, you should know that working _for _the Ministry isn't the same as understanding how the Ministry _works._"

Neville's eyes grew wide with understanding. "But you've taught me all about the Wizengamot; I've even sat in on a few sessions. I had to write a whole paper for you one summer about the founding of the Ministry and why the Minister of Magic has what powers he does, and why." Neville shook his head. "I don't want Harry to buddy up to me to get what he wants; I'll just be another pawn."

"Oh, bosh, Neville; that's how politics work." Gran frowned. "Sometimes asking for help is a way to offer friendship. Harry desperately needs some help and knowledge, based on what I saw at his trial; the boy knows practically nothing about his wizarding heritage. It's downright shameful, the Potter heir being so incompetent. He needs you, and your connections, and you need him just as much. Potters and Longbottoms work well together; they have in the past and they will again." She smiled. "Write him back, and invite him to lunch. Surely he can Floo over in a few days."

Neville nodded, and stood up. "I'll write it now, and send Hedwig right off."

"Of course, dear. Go ahead and use some of my parchment and ink on the desk, there. No time like the present."

Fifteen minutes later, Hedwig was flying off, bearing a parchment tied with a scarlet ribbon.

AN: Sorry it took so long, guys, had total writer's block and that pesky thing called real life got in the way. Hope to have the next chapter up pretty soon, maybe tomorrow. I know they're short right now, and more scenes than chapters; I'm setting the stage and introducing the characters more right now. Later I'll have longer chapters with POV shifts in the chapter. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!


End file.
